


All the love in the world

by ninemoons42



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F, Families of Choice, Flowers, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-26
Updated: 2011-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how they wake up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the love in the world

  
title: All the love in the world  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
pairings: Ariadne/Mal, Arthur/Eames, Cobb/Saito.  
warnings: Waking-up-in-the-mornings AU. I make no apologies for all the fluff, which was inspired by hearing The Corrs's "All the love in the world" at a sandwich shop. Result: going on a YouTube binge. I can't believe I've forgotten these guys; they were one of my very favorite bands, and I bought several of their albums etc. etc.  
So, as I said, little love stories set in the morning. Hope you like.  
In relation to some conversations I've been in on around the fandom: if any of my stories inspire you, **please, please, please, help yourself**. Seriously. I'd be very pleased to see the art and to squee madly at you.  
disclaimer: I don't own the original stories, series, or characters. Not making any profit, just playing in the sandbox.  
summary: This is how they wake up.

  
Ariadne opened her eyes to thunder outside the windows.

"Aw, fuck," she muttered, and promptly pulled the covers back over her head. "Seriously, I have a presentation to make and I'm supposed to walk through a storm?"

In the end, the shrill cry of the alarm on her mobile phone pushed her out of bed, and she stumbled into the kitchenette to make breakfast.

And then she woke up all the way.

Every possible surface was covered in lilies and roses.

Propped up next to the coffeemaker was a note:

"Break a leg, cherie. I'll pick you up after class; we have reservations at your favorite restaurant. I'm wearing the heels that I bought just for you. XOXO Mal"

Ariadne allowed herself a long moment of shock and then she laughed, and cried, and then folded her suit into a small bundle and pushed it into her backpack.

///

Arthur was there when he woke up.

Eames's mind caught up with him after a few moments and he promptly grabbed back half of the comforters. "Why didn't you tell me you were such an amazing blanket hog?" he muttered. Arms coming up to Arthur's waist and shoulders, pulling him in close.

Arthur grumbled, turned around to face Eames and he caught his breath, wondering what doom would actually befall him if he'd woken him up - but Arthur simply nosed at the skin over his collarbones, the ridge of a tattoo, and sighed himself back to sleep.

I could get used to waking up like this, Eames thought, very distantly, and he gave in to temptation, put his hand in the loose, wavy curls of Arthur's hair. Soft dark under his fingers, the raised hairlines of Arthur's scars.

It took him a moment to realize that Arthur had wound one arm around him - but then Arthur's hand was at the back of his neck and he was being pulled into a kiss, morning breath and all, Arthur softly pliant against him, little needy sighs.

Eames smiled against Arthur's mouth and chased him all the way down.

///

Dom sat up suddenly from a dreamless sleep, aware suddenly that he had stayed in bed too long, that there were things that needed doing, that he needed to make breakfast - but what was that smell?

He sniffed, carefully, and there was nothing burning - yet - and he willed his racing heart to slow down.

The bed was still warm.

He shuffled, sleep-heavy, into the kitchen, and stopped dead past the stove.

Any other morning when he had the kids meant chaos, milk spilled on the counters, a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, and at least one chocolate stain on James's mouth. [Philippa hid hers better, but it made doing her laundry a bitch.]

Today Mamoru was sitting at the table, newspaper spread out in front of him; James in his lap quietly drinking his orange juice; Philippa eating pancakes. Pink smears of strawberry jam on the plates, on the forks. Empty sink, and coffee in the pot.

Mamoru opened his mouth just in time for Philippa to offer him a large bite of pancake, liberally buttered and be-jammed.

Dom shook himself out of his daze and, smiling, dropped a kiss on top of Mamoru's head before saying, "Do I get any pancakes, too?"

"Yes, if you're good," Mamoru said.

Both of the children laughed, and he laughed back at all of them. "Morning, guys."  



End file.
